


Untouchable

by ChancellorGriffin



Series: ANYTHING GOES: Custom Fic Prompts for All & Sundry [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Doctor Kink, F/F, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Sex Lessons, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 14:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChancellorGriffin/pseuds/ChancellorGriffin
Summary: Circa late Season 2.  While Clarke, Kane and Indra remain in the field with the Trikru and Skaikru armies outside Mt. Weather, the Commander and the Chancellor return to Polis to rally the clan leaders to join them.  During a late-night strategy session, Abby finally manages to coax Lexa into letting her guard down for the first time, and finally comes to understand why the young commander holds everyone around her at arm's length.





	Untouchable

**Author's Note:**

> This was a custom fic prompt for @HellaJewFro on Twitter, who donated $50 to the ACLU in January as part of my "fic for charity" project (details here - http://kane-and-griffin.tumblr.com/post/156521654821/fic-for-a-cause-support-the-aclu). I've been contemplating Abby/Lexa as a potentially fascinating pairing for awhile so I was delighted to get a request for it!

The sound of footsteps startled Abby awake.

She’d learned to be a light sleeper during her years in Medical, summoned out of bed more than once for emergency surgery at a moment’s notice.  The ground had given her no reason to change these habits.  She’d honed the skill of dozing off quickly and waking quickly, catching whatever scraps of rest she could but easily roused back into wakefulness at the slightest noise.

And tonight she'd needed all the sleep she could get.  They'd been in conference with the clan leaders of Trishanakru and Sangedakru – the last, most stubborn holdouts – until late into the evening, followed by a brief, hasty meal and a long stretch of hours gathered around the map table in Lexa’s private study with the ambassadors.  Field commanders had already been dispatched to join Clarke, Kane and Indra at camp, but they awaited their orders until the Commander decided what to do. 

Abby knew very little about Lexa, except that she – like Clarke, like Bellamy, like Raven, like the kids inside Mt. Weather – seemed way too young for the weight of responsibility the world had asked her to bear.  She was slim and tensile and rather brittle, with an air that kept people at a distance, though not without good reason; she was something between a political and a religious figure to all the Grounder clans, and it was not a position that invited camaraderie. It hadn't escaped Abby's notice that the Commander had been palpably reluctant to bring her along to Polis; the only one of the Sky People she seemed to like at all was Kane, whose company she clearly would have preferred on the long, awkwardly silent trip back to the capital city.  But Abby wore the Chancellor's pin, making her the one the ambassadors must accept as in order for the treaty to hold; but Kane was the one who had been a soldier.  He had tactical skills Abby didn't, and Clarke needed him where he was.  Neither she nor Lexa had been too pleased at the notion of this tentative partnership, but they both (somewhat reluctantly) conceded to Kane and Clarke’s judgment.

The ambassadors had not left until nearly midnight, but Lexa had remained at the map table long after their departure, going over the troop positions and sketching out potential scenarios.  Abby had pressed the Commander to go back to her room and get a few hours of sleep, but had been firmly refused (with some surprise, and more than a little hostility; Lexa did not seem accustomed to having anyone tell her, or even _suggest_ to her, what she ought to do).  Abby had been curtly dismissed with an offhand remark about her services being unnecessary until the morning; but, as much as she was tempted by the notion of a full night’s sleep in a real bed for the first time since the Ark landed, she was too stubborn to accept such a command easily. “I’ll be fine right here,” she had insisted, making her way over to the wide, faded velvet chaise in the corner of Lexa’s study, “in case you need anything.”  Lexa had shrugged, unwilling or uninterested in pressing further, and returned to work, and Abby had promptly drifted into the kind of light, restorative slumber that had kept her from losing her mind during all those late nights in Medical.

It was Lexa's pacing which had awakened her, she quickly realized, looking over to see the girl futilely attempting to stretch out her back, no doubt in knots after hours of standing in the same position, bent over the wide low table. 

“Here,” said Abby, rising from the chaise and making her way over to her.  “Let me.”

“I’m fine,” said Lexa flatly, in a tone that would have silenced any Grounder from pressing further; but Abby was indefatigable. 

"Back or shoulders?"

“It’s nothing.”

"Lexa, will you just hold still, this will take two seconds.  Just let me take a look at it, okay?  You'll be miserable all night."

“We have our own healers.”

“Fine,” said Abby, arms folded stubbornly.  “Then call one.”

 _“No,”_ Lexa shot back with a curious heat in her voice.  “Not for this.”

Abby's annoyance at the girl's refusal to accept help ( _God save me from_ another _bullheaded teenager_ ) was immediately tempered by a keen surge of interest at her very peculiar tone.  There was a story here, and Abby wanted to know what it was.  She watched the young Commander for a long time, the gears in her mind whirring and spinning as she worked to put the pieces together, and wondered if the stiffness of her muscles had inadvertently aggravated an old injury.  Long past, mostly healed, but susceptible every now and then to the kind of intense soreness that made concentration impossible.  “How did it happen?” she asked bluntly.

The girl tensed up immediately, wary green eyes sizing Abby up, still deciding whether the Sky People were friend or foe, still half-convinced every gesture of friendship held a trap inside it. “How did what happen?”

“Whatever you did to your shoulder years ago that you don’t want any of your own healers to ask you about."

Lexa looked stricken, face suddenly nakedly expressive for the very first time, a brief flash of pain so raw and familiar that it startled Abby into silence.  The Commander recovered first, returning to the map table, a new wall between her and this tenuous new ally, now that she realized the other woman had deduced something she seemed almost frightened to discuss. Abby made her way across the room to her, watching the girl tense up more and more as she approached; but she neither ordered Abby away nor yielded ground.  She simply stared down at the map table, mightily struggling to recover her composure, and suddenly Abby understood.

“You can’t show weakness in front of them,” she said softly, and watched Lexa’s slender back stiffen, though the girl did not look up.  "They won't _let_ you.  If you were bleeding to death from a sword through the chest, you'd call them in a heartbeat; but having a sore back at the end of a long day means you aren't invincible.  Even your healers have to be kept at arm’s length.”

“This is none of your concern, Chancellor.”

"Oh for God's sake, Lexa, will you just let me help?  If I promise you that I will have exactly the same amount of reverence for you I had before, despite the sudden news that you are an actual human being, will you stand still for five damn minutes and let me do something about whatever is going on with your back?"

She did not actually bother waiting for permission, and before Lexa could formulate the protest clearly forming on the tip of her tongue, Abby's thumbs were digging firmly into the impossibly tight knots at the base of her slender, elegant neck.  Good _God_ , the girl was tense.  The soft exclamation that tumbled out of her lips – a gasp of astonishment, a little anger, pain, and shocked pleasure – sent a faint shiver up Abby’s spine, which she fought valiantly to ignore.

Lexa did not push her away, but nor did she heed any of Abby's reproachful reminders that this would all go much more easily if she just let herself relax.  Every muscle in her back was rock-hard, and her defensive resistance to Abby's touch did not subside easily. But Abby was patient, and took a slightly sadistic professional pleasure in kneading and prodding forcefully enough to make the girl inhale sharply at the acute sensation of sharp, stabbing pain followed immediately by a rush of pleasure as the tension slowly drained out of her muscles.  Abby could feel the sharp little triangular wings of her narrow shoulderblades through the thin fabric of her shirt, and followed the deep muscle tension to a spot somewhere below them, to the left of Lexa's spine, where the pebbled ridge of scar tissue was unmistakable even beneath the fabric.  This, clearly, was the injury she’d aggravated by leaning over the table for six hours.  It was low enough that Abby felt there was little harm in tugging up the hem of Lexa’s shirt a few inches to examine it, but the moment her fingertips grazed the scar (a sword wound, by the look of it) Lexa flinched almost violently and pulled away.

“Please go,” she ordered roughly, but Abby’s curiosity was sometimes stronger than her common sense, and she thought she was beginning to put the pieces together.  Her presence appeared to agitate Lexa, and it certainly seemed there was more at play here than simply a sore back.

So she gambled on the bold move, hoping she was right.

“For me, it was putting my fist through a wall,” she said, almost casually, drifting back over to sit down on the chaise, giving Lexa a little space.  The girl’s head snapped up, staring, puzzled by the _non sequitur_ but intrigued almost against her will.  “It was a few months after.  I think I didn’t know how to let myself feel all the things I was feeling, at first, especially with Clarke being arrested the very next day.  I just pressed it all down, because I had too much to do.  And because it felt like letting them win, I suppose.  To let anyone see it.  I cried at the airlock and I cried when they took Clarke away and then I didn’t cry again.  But three months later I was getting undressed for bed and I took off my boots and set them on the floor of the closet, next to Jake’s, and something snapped, I don’t know what it was, and the next thing I knew I had punched a hole through the plaster of the closet wall.  We do stupid things, sometimes, because of grief.  When we lose someone we love, and we don’t think we have permission to show it.”

Lexa was silent for a long, long, long time.  Abby waited.  “She was murdered by Azgeda warriors,” the Commander finally said, in a voice so soft Abby could hardly hear her.  “I found the men who did it.  I killed them all.  But I was . . . distracted.  I did not fight well.”

“You made a mistake.”

“Yes.”

“And you got an Ice Nation sword through your back.  Which you don’t like to talk about, because you’re the Commander, and he should never have gotten close enough to wound you that way.  You're afraid they'll look at you differently if they realize you're human enough to screw up sometimes.”  Lexa nodded, almost reluctantly. “You remind me a little of Marcus."

Lexa looked up at her.  “Thank you,” she said, with something approaching warmth, and Abby laughed.

“In all my life you’re the first person I’ve ever met who has been flattered by a comparison to Marcus Kane.”

“I understood it to be a compliment.”

“It was.”

“You are kind,” Lexa said rather unexpectedly, looking up at Abby.  “I did not expect kindness from you.”

“If you don’t mind my saying so, Commander,” Abby observed, “you don’t much seem to expect kindness from anyone."

Lexa eyed her warily.  "What does that mean?"

"There's a bubble around you.  No one can get too close.  No one touches you.  No one treats you like a _person_."

“I am the Commander,” Lexa said patiently, as though that explained everything.

“Do you miss it?  I mean what it was like before you had to bear the weight of all this.  When you didn’t have to keep everyone on the other side of a wall.”

“It was always like this."

Abby shook her head.  “No, I mean before you Ascended.  When you had friends, family, a girl you loved.  When you had someone who could stand here and rub your shoulders at the end of a long day without being terrified of creating a political crisis by admitting you once let an Ice Nation guard get close enough to wound you.”

“You know little of our people,” said Lexa quietly, not looking at her.  “You know nothing of the way Nightbloods are raised.  I was trained for this role all my life.  Titus taught me well.  He protected me.  The Commander is a leader set apart.  It would not have been appropriate for me to . . . for anyone to . . . “  She stopped herself suddenly, looking away.  “The Commander cannot afford weakness,” she finally said, and the implicit meaning of the words shocked Abby.

“But you loved someone.”

“Yes.”

“And she loved you.”

“Yes.”

“But you still lived like this?  Even then?”

“This was my destiny,” Lexa explained.  “Titus always knew it.  He told me it was dangerous for Costia and I to . . . have feelings for one another.  And he was right.  In the end, our love was what caused her death.”

Abby shook her head, something like anger bubbling up inside her.  Titus had not impressed her favorably – something about his stern, cold protectiveness of Lexa had rubbed her the wrong way from the first -but this was a hundred times worse.  “You loved each other, and yet Titus kept you apart?”

“Costia was not a Nightblood.”

“Well, what the hell should that matter?”

“It matters.”

“To Titus, or to you?”

“Why are you angry?” Lexa asked abruptly, not angry, but puzzled, as though Abby’s behavior was alien to her and she could not decipher it.

“Because if you care about someone, then it’s no one else’s concern.”

“You are Chancellor of the Sky People,” Lexa pointed out.  “Would it not be your people’s concern if you took a lover?  Would no one ask whether it affected your judgment?"

"That's different."

"How?  If it had been you, instead of Octavia, who took Lincoln kom Trikru as your lover - an outsider whom your people have not welcomed - would no one question it?  Would they watch you ally your clan with Trikru and never ask themselves even once if your judgment was clear and unclouded?  Would they say, 'This is none of our concern?'  Or what about Marcus?  He is the leader of your guard.  If you loved him, would your people not wonder if you were truly impartial enough to send him into battle, into harm’s way?  You are seeking fault in Titus where there is none to be found.  He did nothing more than follow our customs.”

"He made you lonely," said Abby bluntly.  "He made you someone who can't stand to be touched."

All the air went suddenly out of the room, and Abby knew with a sick twist of her stomach that she'd said too much.  Lexa’s eyes, when she finally, slowly looked up and turned her gaze onto Abby, were flashing with some heated stew of emotions.  Mortification, anger, acute discomfort, but something else too, something that pulsed with heat and drew Abby almost inexorably back across the room to where the girl stood.  “How long has it been since anyone has touched you?” Abby asked her softly.  Lexa did not answer, eyes wide with something like panic as Abby grew closer.  “Before I did.  Just now.  How long had it been?  Who was the last?  Was it Costia?”

Lexa shook her head.  “Costia never touched me,” she whispered in a voice so low it was scarcely more than breath.  “Titus never permitted her near enough.  We could do no more than look, from afar, and sometimes pass letters.  But she never touched me.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

Abby placed a gentle hand on Lexa’s shoulder.  The girl flinched as though Abby’s touch burned her, but did not pull away, though her eyes were wide like a startled wild animal.  "Hey," said Abby gently.  "Lexa.  You're safe.  You don't need to be invincible for me.  You're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it isn't failure if you need to set it down for a moment and rest.  Not out there, not with your people watching, I get that, but in here, with me.  You just need a minute to let everything go."

"I am the Commander," said Lexa.  "If I let go, everything falls apart."

“Come here,” said Abby, and folded her arms around the girl’s back.

Lexa went tense and taut as a bowstring in Abby’s embrace, not quite resisting but not yielding either.  She held herself perfectly still, like a startled wild animal about to bolt, arms stiff at her sides.  “Lexa,” Abby sighed with an exasperated chuckle.  “It’s just a hug.  Take it easy.”  She pulled back, hands cupping the girl’s thin shoulders, and regarded her thoughtfully, surprised by what she saw in the Commander’s face.  Lexa’s eyes were wide and dark, flashing with heat, her lips parted, her breath coming rapid and shallow.  Abby’s hands glided down her arms to take the girl’s hands in hers, and found them trembling.  “Lexa,” Abby said again, more softly this time.  “Why are you afraid of me?”

“The Commander fears no one,” she replied, but as if the words were learned by rote, mechanical. 

“Was that the first time anyone has ever – “

“You presume too much on my patience, Chancellor,” the girl cut her off, voice cold and harsh, struggling to wrap the tattered shreds of her aloof dignity back around her again, but failing.  There was something warm in her eyes, something that _yearned_ , something that did not match the stern chill of her demeanor and voice.

“Lexa, are you a virgin?” Abby asked, doctor’s curiosity momentarily overtaking political savvy.  The young Commander froze, staring at Abby with an expression of such raw, mortified fury and shock that Abby was taken aback.  No one, it was palpably clear, had ever dared intrude so blatantly.  No one in all the twelve clans would dare.

She did not answer the impertinent question, but she didn’t need to.  A hot flush swept over her face and neck and she cast her eyes downward, avoiding Abby’s gaze.

Abby wasn’t sure what made her do the thing she did next.  Maybe it was because it was late at night and her judgment was clouded.  Maybe it was the way Lexa’s ash-brown hair tumbled down her back, glowing like silk in the firelight.  Maybe it was the sound she had made as Abby massaged her back, or the way she had trembled in the older woman’s embrace like a caged bird.

But whatever it was, something tugged at Abby and wouldn’t let go until she had taken the girl by her unresisting hand, led her to the faded velvet chaise in the corner, sat down beside her, and pressed a soft, warm kiss against her mouth.

Lexa recoiled in sheer astonishment, staring blankly at Abby as though uncertain whether to call the guards to have the presumptuous Chancellor beheaded, or pull her down to the floor and rip off her clothes.  But Abby, though gentle, was persistent, cupping the girl’s cheeks in her soft hands and letting her lips brush lightly over Lexa’s own, just the faintest touch at first, then deepening, nibbling delicately at Lexa’s plush lower lip until her mouth tumbled open and invited Abby inside.

It was clear from the tension in her body that all of this was new for Lexa, that she had never kissed anyone before in her life, and Abby took a precise, meticulous doctor’s pleasure in teaching her as they went.  She listened carefully to the girl’s soft, muffled sighs, and read every faint movement and alteration in her body, responding to each signal and filing it away as data.  When her tongue brushed against Lexa’s, the girl gave a soft, startled exclamation; when she did it a second time, the sound was softer, almost a sigh.  When she did it a third time, Lexa did it back, fierce and warm and hungry, and Abby felt a shiver of anticipation roll through her whole body at the thought of being the first person ever to unlock the girl’s physical desires in this way.  She deserved to have learned all this years ago, but Lord knows Titus was the wrong one to teach her; Titus, who thought love was weakness and that Lexa’s yearning to do these things with Costia would doom them both.  Titus, who built a wall around Lexa too high for anyone to breach, leaving her rigid and cold and alone on the other side.

Abby’s hand slipped gently down Lexa’s body to cup her between the thighs, resting gently against the seam of her leather trousers.  The girl gasped at her touch, eyes wide.  “Has anyone ever touched you here?”  Lexa shook her head.  “Have you ever touched yourself?”  No to this, too.  Abby felt dizzy.  She hadn’t been with a woman in a long, long time, but it wasn’t just that, and it wasn’t just that Lexa was lovely, slim and golden and strong.  It was the impossibly delicious allure of being first, of teaching her how to do all the things she’d never learned.  Abby was a woman, and a doctor, and had been married for twenty years, and there was nothing about female pleasure she didn’t know.  She could give her this.  She could teach Lexa something Titus did not want her to know.  She could set free the locked-up desires inside her.

“ _Tich ai op, Skaifisa_ ,” Lexa said softly, words tumbling out in a rush, as though against her will.  _Teach me, Sky Healer._

“Yes,” whispered Abby, feeling heat pulse between her thighs, and then everything was a blur of clothes and hair and lips and hands until she had the girl on her back, pale naked skin glowing in the candlelight, soft faded velvet below her, eyes gazing up at Abby, shy but no longer afraid.

 Abby began slowly.  Soft touches, nothing more.  Light, deft fingertips all over Lexa’s body except the place they both most wanted them to go.  But this was new, and Abby wanted it to be good for her, wanted her to be ready, wanted to feel the girl’s taut hard body melt and soften beneath her hands until she knew she would find heat and wetness between those slender strong thighs.  So she touched her everywhere else first, for a long, long time.  She ran her fingers through Lexa’s silky hair, circled the rose-pink nipples with her thumbs, scratched her nails delicately down the flat of her stomach, and smiled at the quiet gasping inhalations tumbling out of her lips.  Sometimes she bent down to kiss the girl’s mouth, but more often than not, just watched her, savoring the smoothness of sleek young skin beneath her hands and smiling as Lexa sighed with startled pleasure at the feeling of another person’s touch in places no one had touched before.  Finally, she watched Lexa’s eyelids flutter closed as her body sank heavily against the velvet cushions, the last of her resistance gone, and knew that it was time for the lesson proper to finally begin.

“Keep your eyes closed,” she murmured softly, shifting her weight and curling up close against Lexa’s back, feeling the girl shiver at the sensation of skin on skin, of Abby’s firm nipples brushing against her spine.  “It’s best to learn this by touch.  Just breathe, and feel.”

Lexa nodded, a little breathlessly, as Abby’s hand glided up her thigh and over her hip to rest lightly over the soft thatch of brown hair, petting it lightly as she pressed soft kisses against the back of Lexa’s neck.  “Do you like that?”  Lexa nodded again, so Abby took her by the hand and guided the girl’s own fingertips back to the soft, silken warmth.  “Okay, sweetheart, now you,” she murmured encouragingly, withdrawing her own hand, chin resting on Lexa’s shoulder, watching with approval as the young commander took her first, tentative steps into self-pleasure, tracing hesitant, trembling fingertips through the downy hair, breath quickening at the sensation. 

“Like this?” Lexa asked, so quietly Abby almost didn’t hear her.  Abby chuckled lightly.

“Don’t ask me,” she said, pressing a soft kiss into the girl’s shoulder. “If it feels good, you’re doing it right.”

“It does.”

“Very good,” said Abby approvingly.  “Then you’re ready for the next lesson.”  Lexa nodded, swallowing hard, and trembling a little as Abby’s mouth moved over the skin of her shoulder and neck, pulling the girl close, draping one leg over Lexa’s to lock their bodies together in a soft crescent-moon curve, before moving her hand back into place to caress the soft, damp folds between Lexa’s thighs, causing her to gasp sharply and tense up with astonishment in Abby’s arms.  But the older woman was gentle, persistent, stroking her with soft fingertips, before finally parting the folds and finding the hot, hard, pulsing bud at Lexa’s center.

The moment Abby’s hand brushed Lexa’s clit, the girl gave a sharp, stunned cry, flinching so violently she almost pushed Abby off the couch.  

“Easy,” Abby murmured, stroking her hair.  “Just breathe, honey.  I’ll go as slow as you need.”  But when she moved her fingertips back into place, Lexa flinched again, so Abby lifted her hand away, returning it to the soft damp outer folds.  “These are called the labia,” she explained, lapsing for a moment into her crisp, professional voice.  “Here.  Give me your hand.  Touch yourself right here, where my fingers are.  Feel them.”

So Lexa did, hesitant fingertips joining Abby’s, squirming a little with pleasure at the feeling. 

“Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

Abby’s mild, calm doctor’s voice seemed, in an odd way, to soothe Lexa, who preferred formality and was profoundly unused to intimate touch.  Perhaps it was better to proceed like this, like a lesson, until Lexa got her bearings.   So Abby went on in the same tone. “This is the labia majora,” she said, guiding the girl’s hand.  “The outer folds, here.  The labia minora are inside, right here.  Much more delicate to the touch, and very sensitive, which the outer ones aren’t.  You can be a little more firm with your touch, like this.”  With that, she took the soft damp flesh between her thumb and forefinger and began to rub it firmly between thumb and forefinger, causing Lexa’s whole body to shudder.  “See?  You can be a little more assertive, without hurting.  You’ll learn how you like it, with practice.  Fortunately,” she added with a chuckle, “the practice isn’t exactly a chore.”

Lexa nodded, something that might have been a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, as Abby shifted her weight again to press the girl down onto her back and move on top of her.  Lexa’s eyes flew open, startled, and Abby stroked her hair, dropping a soft kiss on her mouth, before murmuring, “now just remember, keep breathing.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think you’re ready for a more advanced lesson,” she said, as she moved lower down the couch.  Lexa swallowed hard.  Abby’s caramel-gold hair brushed against Lexa’s hips and thighs, as she lowered her head and got to work.

Time slowed to a standstill for both of them as Abby’s soft mouth and tongue moved warm and hungry and insistent over the girl’s cunt, seemingly everywhere at once.  She did not stop the lesson as she went; she took Lexa’s hand in her own and tugged it down to join her lips, guiding the girl to continue touching herself while Abby kissed and licked and suckled.  She steered carefully away from the girl’s warm, wet opening – Lexa was not yet ready for that – but her tongue swept hungrily up her center, lips wrapping around her clit, as the girl’s own fingers caressed the soft folds of flesh, learning as she went what she liked.  From time to time, Abby lifted her head to continue the lesson, describing the concentration of nerve endings in the clitoris and why it was a very good sign that she was so wet.  But it grew harder and harder to remember that she was supposed to be teaching her, when all she wanted was to nose hungrily into this sweet, warm cunt and devour it until the young body quivering beneath her erupted into the very first orgasm of her life.  It took every ounce of self-control to hold back, to restrain herself, to remember to go slow.

Abby’s patience paid off.  She could feel the girl begin to come long before it happened, could feel the rise and rise of pressure bubbling up within Lexa’s body as her breath quickened and her hips began to lift almost reflexively against Abby’s warm, persistent mouth.  When she finally crested the peak and tumbled over, the sound she made sounded less like mere pleasure and more like shock.  Abby lifted her head, kissing her way back up the girl’s sweat-sheened body to stroke the tangled hair away from her face, smiling at the way everything that had once been sharp and hard about Lexa had gone suddenly soft.

“Mochof, Skaifisa,” she panted as Abby kissed her mouth lightly.

“You’re welcome,” she said.  “Now get some sleep.”


End file.
